The Story of Phoenix Brite
by Inconcessus Diligo
Summary: Join a young Metamorphmagus in her attempt to grasp the magical world she finds before her and follow her into adventures that take her into the deepest depths of magic thought long forgotten, and not without good reason.
1. Prelude

Who am I? What am I? How did I do it? Did I actually do it? Who knows? But I swear it was an accident. Whatever happened, I swear that I didn't do it on purpose, honest. I mean, yes, I did want her to die but I never wanted to do it. She was just so mean. I didn't want it to hurt, burning was too far, but I couldn't stop it. I panicked and ran and the rest … the rest is a blur. I stand before you now with full knowledge of what I am. You can accept it or not, but I have learned from my mistakes, and I'm going to be getting help. Daddy says it's just a load of … well, mummy said I shouldn't repeat what he said it was, and that he was just angry. But I know he doesn't approve, and mummy is having a hard time with him. But I don't care what he says.

I'm Phoenix Brite; I'm a Witch; and this is my story.

**Prelude:**

A deep gust of wind rattled the shutters of the open window at the foot of the bed. Tucked neatly between the bulky red mattress and fluffy duck down sheets was the witch Phoenix Brite. Her slumbering, raven-haired form lay rigid and still, her body long used to the harsh elements caused by living up in Little Hucklow, tucked into the side of the Peak District. Her pointed nose did nought but compress with every breath, and her rugged face scrunched ever so slightly as a rougher gust passed through the room. The hours rolled on, and still the girl did not move, until daybreak was met by the greeting of a cockerel from the farm across the road. Phoenix prised her eyes open and swept a shield of silvery blonde hair away from her deep chestnut eyes. Gone were her hard looks and rugged face, all replaced by more feminine features.

With a large yawn, Phoenix Brite clambered out of bed and staggered sleepily over to the open window, wrestling with the rusted shutters until they finally creaked into place, sounding one last screech of disapproval before falling silent. Phoenix's dainty feet carried five equally delicate toes, each adorned with a fluorescent pink toenail. Dragging herself across the floor to a marginally cracked mirror on the wall, she stared into it with lazy eyes and huffed. Scrunching her face up, her formerly rounded morning nose had extended slightly, and her hair now flowed down to her waist from its previous resting place upon her shoulders. With a satisfied grunt, she pulled the door open and tottered down the stairs.

Her parents were already up and wide awake, her mother, a tall and skinny woman with shiny blonde hair and flashing green eyes, tending to the breakfast – waffles flying across the room at a flick of the wrist and the wave of a stick never ceased to amaze Phoenix – and her father buried deeply inside the morning paper, 'Mornin' mum, dad.' Phoenix uttered as she slid onto the nearest chair available and heaved it across to the table. The room wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either, and was oddly clean for a country house. A neat limestone fireplace was etched into the wall, a cup of strange powder kept locked by its side, '_It's the ashes of your dear old Grandma, she always loved sitting by the fire on a cold day.'_ Phoenix could hear her mother's voice every time she stared at the cup. What space wasn't taken up by a not uncomfortable living suite was taken up by a second hand oak dining table and a few gas cookers, a small sink and work surfaces.

'Good morning Phoenix dear, waffles again I'm afraid, all out of bread… never quite got the hang of transfigu—' She was cut off by an unusually large snort from behind the paper, 'Morning Phoenix,' the voice behind the paper said, 'The chickens need feeding and the eggs need collecting, plus we need to let Bolt out of his stable for a quick run around before the derby, so eat up, get washed and ready and meet me out by the coop in half an hour.' Phoenix's dad pulled the paper away, revealing a puffy face adorned with two beady eyes, a sharp nose and a bushy moustache mounted on what would normally be a cheery smile. But not today. Today was the local derby preparation. Bolt was the family horse, bought on money from prime cattle and sheep raised for meat to be sold in the supermarkets as choice cuts, and renting out the fields to campers and caravan owners looking for a simple taste of Peak District air.

Phoenix wolfed down the waffles that had dive-bombed onto a floating plate and had glided slowly down to the table and started upstairs, looking back to see her parents in deep discussion, the veins on her father's neck pulsating with rage and his head either pointing in Phoenix's direction every few seconds, or just encountering an annoying twitch. Either way, Phoenix shuffled back upstairs and started up the shower. She arrived back in the main room dressed in scruffs – old unisex rags that she had been given for farm labour – and a pair of forest green Wellington boots. Her hair was now held back in a tight ponytail and had turned a shade of brown, as well as her features becoming more like her father's. Her mother was dressed in an old suit and top hat, a hazy monocle hanging limply from the suit's jacket pocket. She still busied around, making sure everything was neat and tidy. 'Bye sweetie.' Her mother finally said, bending slightly and giving Phoenix a small kiss on the cheek, 'Bye mum, see you later.' But her mother was already busy hurrying Phoenix out of the house, 'You'll be late for the chickens, can't have that today!'

Phoenix didn't resist. She would be eleven on the 13th of August; tomorrow, and would be getting 'special treatment' from her mother, so it was best to keep her in a good mood. She twisted around to wave and froze in her tracks, not even the shouts of 'Phoenix? Phoenix! Where are you?' from the coop snapped her out of her trance. Her mother had taken the ashes of Phoenix's grandmother, tapped them with a branch, pulled the locked – well, now unlocked – lid off, pulled some ashes out and thrown them into the fire. A warm green glow swallowed the room as her mother replaced the ashes and stepped into the fireplace. Phoenix couldn't stop herself. Her father had rounded the corner, spotted the act in the room and made a dive for Phoenix, 'No! Phoenix! You can't!' but he was too slow. Phoenix had burst back into the house just in time to see her mother engulfed by the green flames now in the grate. Her mother turned to see what the noise was and released a small whisper, 'Phoenix' and she was gone.

Phoenix fell to her knees, tears sliding down her smoothing face as it wiped out every blemish. In one smooth ripple, her face had lost the resemblance to her father and was now of her own creation. She didn't care for anyone anymore. She'd have to leave, that was inevitable, but she didn't care. Her father ran in and crouched beside her, holding her in a tight comforting hug. He knew only that you had to speak where you were going with Floo powder, and that you'd appear only in a grate connected to the Floo network. He knew of nowhere in the world of wizardry and witchcraft that was named Phoenix.

The day passed slowly. Visitors were met by a well rehearsed verse from Phoenix's father, '_Phoenix_ _just lost her mother to an accident with the fire, I knew there had to be a gas leak or something but I never repaired it. I blame myself.'_ and then he'd cue the tears. Phoenix lay motionless in her bed through the dregs of the day and into the night. Her father grunted goodnight at one point and trudged to his room himself. No matter how hard she tried, however, Phoenix could not turn into the quiet and still male she always slept as. She kept her female form, and she was truly scared. Never had she been this scared since the fire incident at her Primary School five years ago. She glanced at the clock resting on her bedside table, 00:01, best make that incident six years ago. Slowly, she wept herself to sleep.

Across the street, under the dim light of an old Victorian street-lamp, a tabby cat sat, with round spectacle markings around its eyes. Seemingly satisfied, it darted up to the door of the Brite household and into the bushes beside the door. The lights around the area suddenly blinked out, and blinked back on. A large envelope sat in the mouth of the cat that emerged from the bushes. It deposited the letter under the door of the house and ran off into the night.


	2. Chapter 1: A Brief Explanation

**Chapter 1: A Brief Explanation**

Phoenix awoke to a dazzling ray of sunlight beaming directly into her eyes. She clasped them shut again out of shock, and slowly pulled them open as they got used to the increased light. The happenings of the previous day still hung over her as she groped around for the edge of her duvet. Upon finding it, she flung it up and slid out, yawning loudly and staring wide eyed into the mirror. Where there was once silvery blonde hair, there was now a shimmering array of reds, oranges and yellows, all blended and rippling, giving the effect of flames. Try as she might, Phoenix couldn't change anything about it, and it remained there. Edging closer, she found her skin free of all blemishes and completely renewed, her eyes a shining golden colour and her skin with the slightest tan. What had happened to her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by loud footsteps up the stairs and a violent opening of the door. Phoenix's father stood in the doorway, halfway gone between shock at the sight of his child's latest appearance and the contents of the letter he was holding, 'My God…' was all that escaped his body as he chewed through his vocabulary. Looking back to the letter, then at Phoenix once more, he still could not understand what was going on, 'How could they know? It only happened yesterday, and then you…' He aimed this final comment at Phoenix, who was looking back inquisitively. A sharp rap on the front door brought Phoenix and her father back to reality, 'Dad, what's going on? What's that letter about? Is it Mum?' Phoenix asked. Her father thrust the letter at her and started back downstairs, only to freeze at the top and gawp down, 'How did you…? GET OUT! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY! GET OUT I SAY!' he roared down the stairs, but whoever was there obviously hadn't moved, as he just stood there waiting.

'I wish to speak with Ms Brite; I will also need to speak with you afterwards, Mr Brite, so please remain in the house. Do not worry about guests, sir; I have it all taken care of. Now please, if I may have a word with her, it is quite urgent.' The disembodied voice of a calm-tempered woman carried up the stairs, replying seamlessly to the expressions on the face of Phoenix's father, who shook a little at first, soon stood aside and pointed at Phoenix's room. A few seconds later, a tall and thin woman clad in an emerald green travelling cloak appeared at the doorway, her light grey hair in a tight bun at the back of her head, and her face showing signs of stress and age.

'Good morning Ms Brite.' The woman said as she walked in, closing the door behind her. Phoenix's reply was lost in her throat; few people could render her father speechless when he got angry, fewer still could remain calm themselves, and even fewer could start ordering him around afterwards, 'I am Professor McGonagall, and I'm here first and foremost on behalf of a teaching establishment we have in place for people with a certain gift, but I also take on the rather rushed role of your mother in giving you a brief explanation about what you are.' Phoenix's brain shut down for a second. 'She didn't mention anything about her being dead, maybe they had her safe somewhere, in hospital perhaps!

Professor McGonagall's lips started moving once again, and Phoenix switched back on, '…People who have certain abilities, say to make things fly across the room, cool down, heat up, or even catch fire in your case.' Phoenix smiled politely, but she was petrified inside. Were these people watching her? Were they working for the police, trying to get a confession out of her with fake stories? 'Oh, I didn't do that on purpose, it was an accident, I swear!' Phoenix burst out. To her surprise, Professor McGonagall nodded back, 'Quite understandable. You see, young wizards and witches do not learn to control their magic until they're older, and it is at the age of eleven – happy birthday, by the way – that they are usually educated by a wizarding school, where they remain for a number of years with holidays travel back home being optional, but also at eleven they are open to punishment by the Ministry of Magic, an establishment that governs over the magical activities around Britain and can punish the under-age use of magic outside of school premises.

'At the age of seventeen, a wizard or witch is considered to be of age, and is allowed to perform certain degrees of magic outside the watchful eyes of a school, but still under the eyes of the Ministry. However, the rules for under elevens are rather lax, and will allow for accidental uses of magic mainly because the user does not know what they are doing, but once you are eleven, it's use is unacceptable outside of life-threatening situations.' Professor McGonagall stopped for a breather before continuing. 'Before I tell you about the school, I must tell you about something else you can do, and your current form. In the wizarding world, there are many forms of magic, some rarer than others. People can turn one thing into another,' she demonstrated by drawing a silver box out of her pocket along with a thin brown stick – 'this, my dear, is a wand, I shall explain later' - tapping the box once with the wand and turning it into a brilliant silver mouse.

'But that is quite a common ability with magic, as it uses a wand. Some can also turn themselves into other forms.' Upon queue, the Professor had disappeared, a tabby cat in her place. The cat suddenly started to grow and morph back into the professor, who was smiling at Phoenix's astonishment, 'But they are rare, as the process is long, hard and dangerous. However, rarer still are those who can transform themselves without training, like you. A person who can perform this act is known as a Metamorphmagus, and can change their appearance at will. It is something that one if born with and no amount of training can grant it to you, nor can potions or transfiguration, both of which are temporary, whilst this is for life.

'Now, you may have noticed that you cannot change, and that, is because you are now under-age and under the watchful eye of the Ministry, and to save the problems of punishments for magic use, your ability has been frozen outside of Hogwarts – the aforementioned school – until you are seventeen. As to why it has chosen that form right now, I do not know, however you will have to be in the preferred form before you leave the school grounds at the holidays or for any reason if you wish to blend in, as whichever form you are will be your new form until you are within the school grounds once more.'

The Professor paused to allow the information to sink in. Phoenix was bursting with questions, each desperately trying to make itself the one to be asked, but something stopped her opening her mouth. All this information, all this stuff about magic, it was too much too soon, she felt as if her brain might explode. Professor McGonagall waited for a minute before restarting, 'Now, we must discuss the school.' She started. 'But I'm already at school, I can't just leave.' Phoenix interrupted, but the professor merely raised her hand to silence her, 'My dear, the situation is under control. Hogwarts has been running for years, we have much experience dealing with muggle – that's a word for non-magic people – problems, and I assure you, most everything you can think of has been, or is going to be, dealt with; now may I continue?' Phoenix bowed her head in embarrassment and let the professor carry on, 'As I was saying, you are due to leave for Hogwarts on September the first at 11am from Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters at King's Cross Station in London. I shall send someone around beforehand to take you to a wizard's pub near there where you shall stay until you are due to leave. They will explain more about what shall happen between then and now, all I am here to do now is to explain about the school.

'Hogwarts comprises of four 'Houses' of students. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw – your mother was in the Ravenclaw house – and Slytherin. The method of sorting is quite different from simply flipping a coin or rolling a die, its method still quite unknown to us all, but you shall see when you arrive. First year classes are Potions, Herbology, Defence against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Astronomy, Charms, and Flying, the latter of which is only a first year lesson.'

Professor McGonagall stopped and searched her pockets, fishing out a second envelope and handing it to Phoenix, 'That contains the list of what you are required to bring. The wizarding world uses a different currency to the muggle world, and as such you are not usually relied upon to provide everything on your own, but your mother had specified that in the case of anything happening to her before this day, you are to be given everything in her vault at our wizarding bank, Gringotts. It is a substantial amount if I do say so myself, so do not think that you must go looking for second hand objects, but do not think you can go splashing out either, as this money is to last you for seven years, and possibly more if you cannot find a job quickly, so spend it wisely!' The professor allowed Phoenix to open the envelope and read the letter within,

'HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY 

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
(Order of Merlin: First Class) 

Dear Ms. Brite, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st. 

Yours sincerely,  
Alessia Verone  
Deputy Headmistress 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY 

UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
sets of plain work robes (black)  
plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags. 

COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following: 

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)  
by Miranda Goshawk 

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot 

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch 

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi  
by Phyllida Spore 

Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger 

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them  
by Newt Scamander 

All Purpose Protection Against the Dark Arts (Grade 1)  
by Harry Potter 

OTHER EQUIPMENT 

1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set of brass scales 

Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad. 

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS'


	3. Chapter 2: First Impressions

**Chapter 2: First Impressions**

Phoenix read through the letter several times, taking in all the information that would have looked like nonsense a day ago. In her mind she tried to imagine walking into a bookshop and asking for the books listed on the letter and wondered if they'd actually have them, or if she'd be locked up for being mentally ill. She read the dates again and noticed something, 'Erm, Professor… today is the 13th of August, I've missed the deadline for replies…' Professor McGonagall just smiled, 'Your mother already sent us a reply. She was adamant that you'd be attending. Quite a person, she was, I remember her Transfiguration classes vividly; she was never very good at the subject, but she always managed to make everything hilarious, and it was all quite unintentional.' Phoenix smiled, picturing her mother turning a frog into something and having it croak and hop out of the window afterwards. 'Anyway, I think I've talked at you quite long enough. A representative from the school will be here on the 17th to take you down to London. As for finding everything on the list, you'll be in very capable hands when it comes to that. Now I must speak with your father and get the rest of this sorted out, so could you please send him in your way out?'

Phoenix found herself leaving her room somewhat against her will, as if her body had taken it upon itself to carry out the professor's orders. As soon as she left the room, her father came out of his and stared at her, 'Who is she and what does she want?' he asked, 'She's a professor at a wizarding school, and she needs to talk to you in private.' Phoenix replied, watching her father's expression as it resonated anger, surprise, fear and curiosity all at the same time. His Adam's apple throbbed as he gulped nervously, edging his way over to Phoenix's room, hands fidgeting at his sides. Carefully, he pushed the door open and walked in, the door closing behind him. Phoenix could hear nothing from outside, almost as if the two occupants were communicating with their minds or using sign language.

The minutes crept by and Phoenix was left pacing the landing, thoughts whizzing through her head. A series of sharp knocks on the front door broke her concentration and she froze. Didn't the professor say that everything was being dealt with? Had something gone wrong? Was this all just a complete set-up? Curiously, she crept down the stairs, her bare feet staying warm even as she descended the cold wooden stairs, dodging the creaky penultimate stair and landing softly upon the smooth stone floor. A second series of knocks rang through the room and Phoenix crept to the door, keeping low behind the kitchen surfaces, stopping at the edge to poke her head around. A young brown-haired man dressed in a repulsive vomit brown suit stood nervously at the door, looking over his should at something behind him. Bright blue light bounced off his face at regular intervals and Phoenix gasped as a man in a black helmet and luminescent green jacket appeared next to the first man.

Phoenix shot back around the kitchen counter was the policeman scanned the interior of the house. Phoenix poked her head back around as the policeman turned and signalled to someone else. Seconds later, a crash sounded on the door followed by the crunch of splintering wood and the spraying of pieces across the kitchen floor. Two more crunches later the door swung inwards and Phoenix was met by a force of noise. The sirens of several police cars whined away, as well as the bickering between several men, one Phoenix assumed to be the nervous one she first spotted, 'I'm telling you, there's nothing going on here and it's official, speak to your Prime Minister or something, he'll tell you!' the squeaky young voice said, 'I'm sorry mate but you're loony, I dunno what you've taking, probably some new-fangled drug all the kids keep finding around the place. Now if you don't shut up about all this magic and wizardry I'm going to have to have you arrested. Oi! Niel! Kev! You're free to search the house! Cuff anyone you find and bring em out!'

Two pairs of heavy boots hit the stone floor of the room and Phoenix froze to the kitchen counter and shut her eyes. A few more steps and they'd find her. Those steps drew ever closer. Three away. Two away. One away; this was it.

'Freeze! Put your hands on your head and don't cause us any hassle, we won't hesitate to use tasers!' Phoenix opened her eyes and saw Professor McGonagall stop at the stairs, her demeanour remained calm and controlled, but Phoenix's father was positively furious, his neck bulging with purple veins that threatened to explode at any moment.

'Evan, what is the meaning of this? Didn't I tell you what to say to them?' Professor McGonagall said to whom Phoenix assumed was the young man still standing at the door.

'You have the right to remain silent, miss, anything you do say will be given in evidence in a court of la-' Phoenix heard something fall to the floor as the professor raised her wand. A second noise signalled that Evan had also drawn his and targeted a second policeman. The sound of something hitting stone outside assured Phoenix that Evan was having a good go at the police.

'Phoenix, get up.' Professor McGonagall said in a clam but authoritative voice. Phoenix obeyed and turned towards the splintered and broken door, and then to the doorway, where Evan had ducked and was conjuring objects in front of him to catch the tasers on, 'Phoenix, listen to me. These men aren't dead, but you'll be in deep trouble if the Ministry find you here. You'll be leaving for the Leaky Cauldron with Evan, our resident Charms teacher, where you'll await a person named Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's nice enough, and is a close friend of mine, as well as the current Minister of Magic. He'll fill you in on what's going to happen and advise you on things. After that you are free to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until the 1st of September. Evan is going to be your assistant instead from now on and will help you obtain your school items. Good luck and see you in September.'

Professor McGonagall strode past a shaking Phoenix and tapped Evan on the shoulder, taking over from him. As Evan got to Phoenix, loud cracks emitted from the garden and a plethora of people appeared out of nowhere, each of them wearing jet black robes with silver lettering. The remaining policemen froze and were tended to by a few of the mysterious people, the rest walked over to professor McGonagall, ready to shout and pointing wildly at Evan and Phoenix, 'Hold on to my arm, tight.' Evan said to Phoenix. She clutched the proffered arm and her head jerked back. Her body felt like it was trying to be ripped away from Evan and colours flashed before her eyes before she felt a cold floor beneath her feet. She waited for the room to stop spinning and come into focus, and realised she was still clinging to Evan's arm as if her life depended on it. She coughed and let go, looking around at the morbidity of the room. A single four-poster bed sat in the middle of the far wall, flanked on one side by a chest of drawers, and on the other by a tall wooden wardrobe.

Evan walked to the bed and sat down on it, breathing heavily. He looked up at Phoenix and pointed at the wardrobe, 'Just in case, Minerva had some clothes put in here. You might want to get dressed.' Phoenix looked into a dusty mirror and yelped, she had been in her pyjamas all this time, 'Damn, you look good.' Phoenix turned her head to Evan, who had his face buried deep in a book, and then back at the mirror, 'Did you say that?'. Evan spoke without even looking up, 'It does that sometimes, some of the mirrors here are quite perverted; gotta have a word with Tom about fixing that.' Without further ado, Evan slid the book into a pocket inside his suit and got up off the bed, 'In fact, I think I'll do it now, leave you alone whilst you do whatever you need to do,' he pulled his wand out and flicked it at the bed sheet.

Phoenix watched the sheet fly over to the mirror and drape down over it, muffled curses were still being uttered underneath. Evan pocketed his wand, dipped his head at Phoenix and left the room. Phoenix sighed and started to undress. The room began to shake, slightly at first and then violently as something rattled past the room. The bed sheet over the mirror slid off slightly, and Phoenix saw her half-naked reflection staring back at her, 'Ahhh, that's better.' The mirror said. Phoenix dashed over to the mirror, using one hand to cover herself up and the other to drag the bed sheet back over. With a sigh she pulled the mirror off the wall, ignoring it's foul-mouthed objections and placed it face down on the floor. She proceeded over to the bed and sat panting on it, surprised at the weight of the mirror. As far as she was concerned, the first impressions of the world of magic were far from ordinary.


	4. Chapter 3: Right Up Your Alley

**Chapter 3: Right Up Your Alley**

The next few days passed quickly. The trains roaring past the window became slightly easier to deal with, and the perverted mirror was finally dealt with by Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron pub. Evan was around at various points in the day, usually in the bar or in his room pouring over a book, most of them containing runes instead of words, or in some cases, what looked to be nothing at all. Phoenix had been confined to the pub until Kingsley Shacklebolt came to see her, which had yet to happen, and left her on edge about what was happening. Was she a fugitive? Was she still going to Hogwarts? What happened to her father and Professor McGonagall? But most of all, she thought about her mother, her gaunt face and flashing green eyes often entering Phoenix's thoughts. If only she was still here, none of this would've happened. Guilt rushed through her as she remembered the point where her mother stepped into the fire and disappeared, distracted by the appearance of her daughter at the door. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and clung to her chin, wobbling slightly until it fell, silently splashing onto the wooden floorboards beneath her.

Phoenix looked up from her seat on the bed as she heard the door creak open. In walked a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in robes of rich blues and purples. His rounded face showed heavy signs of stress, making him look older than he should be. His head was bald and carried a long thin scar across the top. He closed the door behind him and pulled out his wand, conjuring a neat wooden chair in the air in front of him that dropped to the floor with a thud. He took the seat and stared into Phoenix's eyes with his own bold brown pair, as if he could see directly into her thoughts, 'Good morning Miss Brite, I trust that your stay here has been enjoyable?' his words carried an air or seriousness in their polite meaning which made Phoenix feel uneasy, 'Yes sir, thank you sir.' She replied, her voice shaky. Kingsley smiled and extended his hand, which Phoenix took firmly before recoiling, somewhat assured.

'As you have probably guessed, I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic and overseer of the magical affairs in Britain. Don't worry, you haven't done anything wrong, everything has been sorted out and your father is fine, albeit somewhat shaken.' Just like professor McGonagall, Kingsley replied to every question that came to her as he spoke. Phoenix opened her mouth to speak but Kingsley interrupted, 'Before you ask, yes you are that predictable, as are most young wizards of this age, no I cannot read your mind as I am no more skilled a Legilimens – or mind-reader, to muggles - as you are, although I am a very skilled Occlumens – in other words, I can guard against mind readers – so even if you were trying to read my mind, you'd see nought but the end of my wand in your face. However, we cannot dilly dally on things like this as I am on a busy schedule, so I'll be brief. Evan has agreed to take you into Diagon Alley this afternoon so you can purchase your school things. He has been entrusted with the key to your Gringotts vault and you will need to withdraw many Galleons for your school requirements, although I would withdraw some Sickles and Knuts just in case. Don't forget to put some aside for anything you might want to buy on the Hogwarts Express.'

Phoenix just stared blankly at the still smiling Minister. 'Sir, what are Galleons, Sickles and Knuts? What is Diagon Alley and what is the Hogwarts Express?' she asked. 'The former is wizard currency, A bronze Knut is worth the least, with 29 making a silver Sickle, and 493 making a gold Galleon. A Sickle is the worth the next least, with 17 of them making up a Galleon, which in turn is worth the most. Most of your school things shouldn't require more than a few Galleons in total. As for Diagon Alley, that is located behind this very pub and is the central hub of the wizarding market in Britain, containing the Gringotts bank and a myriad of other shops ranging from robes to pets, wands to broomsticks and cauldrons to jokes. The Hogwarts Express is the train you'll taking from King's Cross to Hogsmeade Station at Hogwarts. Anymore questions?' The minister continued to smile as Phoenix racked her brains for more questions, of which there were many only a few days ago, only two remained in her head.

'What do we need broomsticks for?' She asked, 'Broomsticks are required for travel in some cases, and in most to take part in the sport of Quidditch, a game that will be explained further when you reach Hogwarts.' Kingsley explained. He started to get up when Phoenix asked her final question, 'Sir, I heard professor McGonagall saying something about a Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters at King's Cross, only I thought that train stations didn't use halves and quarters.' Kingsley looked up and grinned, showing a line of pearly white teeth, 'Oh, that's a fun part, if I told you now it'd take the mystery out of it.' Kingsley stood up and waved his wand, the chair disappearing with a loud pop. He walked over to the door and opened it, 'Good bye Miss Brite, take care.' And he was gone.

Phoenix lay back on her bed and stared up at the roof of it as a train rattled by. The trains obviously reduced the need for dusting, as a small layer was thrust off the bed and flew through the air. Phoenix lay still, contemplating what had just happened. What was so bad about Quidditch that first years weren't allowed brooms? They take flying lessons after all. He thoughts were interrupted by the emergence of Evan at the doorway, his usual vomit brown suit and trousers replaced by a mystical midnight blue cloak and robes that twinkled in the light, each thread like a tiny star. 'Hurry up and get ready, you need to experience the thrill that is shopping in Diagon Alley.' He said as sarcastically as possible, 'There's no better place in the world to get crushed by masses of strangers and creatures as you try to string along your stuff behind you. You should've been with Hagrid for this, beast of a guy he is, and he's only a half-giant! Still, he's perfect for shopping with, nobody goes near you and it's a simple job of travelling in his wake.' Evan beamed at Phoenix, who didn't know anything about what he just said, but politely smiled regardless.

She threw on a simple red blazer over her top walked over to the mirror, 'It's cold out, there's a nice scarf in the back of the third drawer down that would look gorgeous with your hair and would really bring out your eyes.' Phoenix winked at the mirror that sniggered, 'I didn't say that, dear.' Phoenix turned and saw Evan innocently whistling in the doorway, 'He should really check his sources before joking, and there is actually a scarf that fits that very description, only in the second drawer down. One more drawer and you'd have outsmarted your first teacher.' The mirror whispered back.

Phoenix followed Evan out of the room, the look on his face was priceless when Phoenix pulled an orange scarf out of the second drawer. He led Phoenix out of the back of the pub and up to a solid brick wall. He drew his wand and tapped a brick 3 up from the bottom, and two across, and Phoenix watched in amazement as the bricks shifted and retreated, revealing a long lane of buildings with hordes of people shuffling around in the street, going from shop to shop. Most were clad in cloaks and robes or suits, but there were a few in summery dresses or shirts. Strangely enough, the more normal looking ones seemed out of place in a crowd of cloaked and robed people. Evan led the way through and Phoenix followed, looking back briefly and seeing the wall close seamlessly.

Phoenix caught up with Evan after darting through the crowds, 'Where to first? This place is huge!' She remarked. 'You have money on you?' Evan asked without even looking down. 'Nope.' Phoenix replied. 'Then I think Gringotts will be right up your alley.' Evan replied, grinning.


	5. Chapter 4: Gringotts

**AN:** Thank you to those who are reading this and/or have put in a review, I hope you've all enjoyed it thus far and will continue to enjoy it. In response to an issue I had with the speech in the last few chapters, I've decided to lay it out differently for the next few and see how it runs. Please could you tell me which you prefer, as the layout which is the most preferable will be used from then on and I'll finally be able to stop panicking about the speech layouts. Thanks again!

**Chapter 4: Gringotts**

Phoenix followed Evan through the crowds, her shining flame-like hair grabbing no more attention than a normal person's. Several times she lost sight of the young man she was following, but always found him leaning next to a shop, arms folded, 'Don't make me have to hold your hand; some of the kids here might be your peers in a few weeks, how embarrassing would it be at your age to be holding someone's hand in a crowded shopping district?'. Phoenix kept that in mind, and always managed to keep up with Evan as they turned through the winding cobblestone streets. A couple of minute passed before the pair stopped; Phoenix's mouth agape. Cutting through the air beyond several rows of houses was a giant snowy-white tower, surrounded by smaller versions of the centrepiece. Evan nudged her and ushered her forward through the crowds, often having to break into a jog to keep up with Phoenix's pace. She wound her way through the hordes of people, cutting through small gaps between shops, all the time focussing on the towers that grew ever larger with each step.

Phoenix rounded a final corner and she found herself standing before a great white building, the name 'Gringotts Bank' etched flawlessly into the stone above a grand set of ornate bronze doors. 'Breathtaking, isn't it?' Evan panted beside her, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

'It's beautiful.' Phoenix uttered, her eyes still fixed upon the building.

'Shall we enter?' Evan asked, striding up to the solid bronze doors and pushing one effortlessly aside.

Phoenix walked over to the building, admiring everything about it. She entered through the opened door into a small porch, housing a second pair of doors, this time silver. Evan led her through these and into a large lobby paved with the finest marble and accommodating large golden chandeliers on the ceiling. The walls on either side were littered with desks, a few of which contained people bickering to small, ugly looking creatures, who's eyes lit up brightly whenever their client pulled out a money-bag or precious item. The centre of the lobby was a long corridor formed by the counters that ran on either side, each counter attended by another of the ugly creatures who obviously dealt with the quicker transactions, as many robed and cloaked individuals stood there only for a few seconds before a sack of money or an item switched hands and they set off further down the corridor or back towards the entrance.

'What are those creatures?' Phoenix asked Evan as they walked up to the corridor of counters.

'Goblins'. He replied sternly, 'Strange fellows. Love their money and the fruits of their craft. Each one sees something of Goblin make as belonging only to the Goblins themselves, with those who have traded them for money seen as merely borrowing them. Mark my words, given half a chance, a Goblin would stab you and rob you blind, if only to get back a woollen sock knitted by their grandmother.'

'Then why employ them?' Phoenix asked.

'They make great accountants, plus they put the highest security possible in place if you've the money to pay for it. Only ever been one successful robbery of this place, and I doubt any of us will live long enough to see a second.' Evan replied, stepping up to a free Goblin that was scribbling away with a quill and pretending not to notice Evan. 'Excuse me?' Evan said, but still the Goblin continued to write. 'Excuse me?' Again, Evan's attempt was futile. 'Oi, ugly!' The room fell silent as Evan's voice rang out, reverberating off the marble walls. The Goblin stopped scratching away and put his quill down.

'Were you talking to me, human?' The Goblin rasped.

Evan ignored the Goblin and drew a golden key from his robe pocket, placing it on the counter, the Goblin's expression remained unchanged and vacant. 'We need access to Vault 436.' Evan stated.

'What makes you think that I shall continue to serve you after your initial … outburst?' The Goblin's mouth curled into a vicious smile.

'The fact that this is official Hogwarts business and that by standing in our way we shall have to see about complaining to the Minister for Magic.' Evan replied, watching the Goblin's smile change swiftly into a snarl.

'I see.' The Goblin replied through clenched teeth, 'What business does a school have with a little girl's vault?'

'What business does your nose have with Hogwart's affairs?' Evan retorted.

The Goblin took the key and called over a second Goblin, handing it to him and pointing to the exit at the end of the counters, 'Please follow Knark to the carts and have a … pleasant day.' The Goblin spat.

Evan called to Phoenix, who continued to stare at the Goblin, only looking away when it bared its sharp fangs at her. She caught up with Evan and the second Goblin on a platform not unlike a train station, with a track running down through a tunnel carved into a huge expanse of rock. What looked to be a mine cart hurtled down from the right, going so fast it would overshoot the platform by miles, but to Phoenix's astonishment, it stopped perfectly in line with the gap in the barriers.

The Goblin opened the door to the cart and ushered Phoenix and Evan in before walking in himself. As soon as he had shut the door the cart hurtled off down the tunnels. Phoenix was petrified with fear as the cart picked up speed, Evan had to leap at her and drag her down as the cart passed under a particularly low ceiling. After that she was more alert, but the speed at which they were going still scared her. After a few more minutes of last second ducks and yelps of terror as colonies of bats arrived to inspect the intruders, the cart pulled up outside a solid iron door, perfectly circular in shape and inlaid with hundreds, if not thousands of bolts, screws and other mechanisms.

'Please stay back.' Sounded the Goblin as he waddled past Evan and Phoenix. He stopped before the door, key in hand, and gazed at it for a second before flipping back a latch and inserting the tiny golden key into the hole. He twisted the key seven times clockwise, and then three times counter-clockwise, pulled it out and replaced the latch, flipping a second one and prodding a long talon of a finger inside. As soon as he replaced the second latch a series of loud clunks echoed from inside the door and some of the bolts started to shift of their own accord. The click of tumblers coincided with the screwing and unscrewing of several devices on the doors and as one, everything fell silent. At the far side of the door a small man-sized hatch swung inwards. The Goblin pointed them inside, following behind them.

Before Phoenix stood neat stacks of bronze, silver and gold coins, amongst other strange objects. Evan dived into his robes and pulled out a neat animal-hide sack, and with Phoenix's permission, strode up to the piles, scooping a good number of the bronze and silver coins – of which there were a reasonable abundance – inside. 'You can choose the rest, I've just got enough for the basics here.' Phoenix stepped up and examined the piles. There were hundreds of Knuts and Sickles, with a healthy amount of Galleons thrown in. She scooped a handful of mixed coins up and placed them into the bag, surprised at how it was still fitting things in and staying as light as it was when she received it. A pang of wanting hit her as she turned to leave, and whilst she fought it, she finally gave in, turned back and shovelled some Galleons into the bag as well, returning to the cart with a wide smile on her face.

Diagon Alley was still crowded when Evan and Phoenix emerged from Gringotts, Phoenix's eyes taking a while to adjust to the light. She pulled the list of equipment out from her trouser pocket and read through it, deciding to start at the top and work her way down.

'First things first, I need robes.' She said, staring down the many alleyways that all converged upon Gringotts.

'Ah, that'll be a job for Madam Malkin. Come, I'll show you where her shop is.' Evan replied as he started to weave his way down one of the packed alleys. The walk was shorter than Phoenix expected, taking only around a minute to reach an old-fashioned shop with a window full of square glass panes. Inside were mannequins that modelled all sorts of clothing, from run-of-the-mill robes and cloaks all the way to exotic dresses and outfits with fine crimson and gold silk finishes. As she proceeded into the shop, she could've sworn one of the mannequins turned to another and whispered something, before quickly reverting to its original position.


	6. Chapter 5: A Measure of Luck

**Chapter 5: A Measure of Luck**

The shop itself was warm and inviting, despite the rows of clothes that lined the walls and floor. Moving deeper inside, Phoenix soon found who she assumed was Madam Malkin, the only thing giving it away being the bewitched measuring tape that coiled around her like a snake. She was older than Phoenix imagined her being, her skin substantially wrinkled with age and her hair a rather lacklustre tone of silver. Phoenix was ushered on by Evan, who had appeared behind her, eyeing up a pair of robes not unlike his current set. She emerged into a small area of the shop containing several people, most of them children of her own age, but a few being adults looking to replace old robes or get a set repaired. The current child being tended to was around Phoenix's height, about five-foot-seven, with short raven hair set in spikes. He glanced up at Phoenix and smiled cheerily, causing the other children around him to turn around and inspect the new arrival. Some simply turned back, others stared longer at Phoenix's animated hair, one even chocked on her own saliva as she saw the fiery strands billowing down, thinking that someone had simply walked in, hair ablaze, before realising her mistake and quickly turning back.

'Now, go and try these on and see how they fit, quickly, boy, quickly, I'm a bit swamped!' Madam Malkin said to the raven-haired boy on the measuring stool, who promptly jumped off and waddled over to the changing booth, trying desperately not to trick over his too-big robes. 'Arissa, you next, now, what have we here? Another set of torn robes? That's the fourth time this month! I really suggest that you opt for something in our new Nearly Non-Destructible range.' Madam Malkin pointed her wand down one of the isles and a new set of robes flew towards her, folding neatly into a bundle and falling softly into the outstretched arms of a tall auburn-haired woman, 'Off you trot! They aren't going to try themselves on!'

The line slowly whittled down, running through several Hogwarts first years in the process. The raven-haired boy had long left, dragged away by the ear by a pair of angry parents who furiously wafted a paper receipt in front of him. 'Go! Change! Chop-chop!' Madam Malkin barked at a rather beefy red-haired boy, gesturing to the penultimate customer as she watched the boy aimlessly walk off in the general direction of the changing booths. 'Ah! Another Fairewater! Yes, your fine old seer of a father left me a note some time ago detailing your measurements on this day.' Madam Malkin spun quickly around in a circle before launching herself down one of the isles, returning with an old sheet of parchment.

Running a long and wrinkled finger down the list, she tapped one of the names and waved her wand, summoning several pairs of black robes, a hat, a pair of black dragon hide gloves and a plain black cloak with silver fastenings. Another wave caused a spool of golden thread to appear and stitch itself into the lining of each item. With a final wave, the spool disappeared and the clothes folded neatly and stacked on top of each other. 'Have you cauldron transport? Or are you going to collect these later?' Madam Malkin asked the blonde-haired girl, who was eyeing Phoenix's hair cautiously as if still not convinced that she wasn't on fire.

'Oh, sorry, yeah, cauldron, got one here.' The girl span on the stool and slipped off, grabbing a nearby rack of clothes to keep her balance. She straightened up, brushed herself down and ran over to a thick metal cauldron, her face glowing scarlet with embarrassment. Madam Malkin rolled her eyes and placed the clothes in the cauldron, holding a single finger up as the blonde fished out her purse.

'No need, dear, your father paid me in advance, all I did was stock the robes. Now you take care and tell your father that I won't be in tomorrow.' Madam Malkin said.

'Why?' The blonde enquired.

'Because,' Madam Malkin started, 'he's never failed to be incorrect with at least one part of the measurements.' She turned and jumped as she came face to face with the burly red-haired boy she'd sent away previously, 'The results are?' She asked.

'I don't think they fit.' He said in a monotone.

'What makes you say that?' Madam Malkin asked, regretting the question a second later when the boy turned around and leaned over, revealing the split down the centre of the robe and the red underwear beneath. She sighed and waved her wand, another set of robes flew into the nearby changing booth. She pointed the boy in its general direction and turned to Phoenix. 'Another first year, I assume?' Phoenix nodded, following madam Malkin's gaze up to Evan, 'I didn't think you'd be back so soon, nor did I think that you went for girls of this age.'

Evan faltered, opening his mouth and closing it several times before simply stating, 'I'm only with her because Hagrid wasn't available, now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll wait outside.' He tore off down the isles, stopping at the end, spinning around a few times to gather his bearings and setting off again.

Madam Malkin laughed, 'Never very good at arguing if you embarrass him, bear that in mind if you're ever late with an essay.' The bewitched measuring tape slithered down Madam Malkin's arm and onto Phoenix, where it measured every angle possible before returning to its perch around the woman's neck. 'Any other information? Illnesses? Charm allergies? Any tendencies to suddenly sprout extra limbs or have your own change in size?' Madam Malkin asked.

'Nope.' Phoenix replied, chewing the word over, 'Actually,' she started, madam Malkin freezing in place, 'I'm a meta-something-magus, or so I've been told.'

Madam Malkin's eyes grew, 'A Metamorphmagus eh? Ah well that makes things a bit harder. Rarer robes for rarer people, that's usually the cause, although certain robes are on the rise sales-wise, what with more lax Ministry regulations. Blood-resistant robes for vampires, Nearly Non-Destructible robes for werewolves – or careless people, might I add, although you'd have to be pretty careless to get bitten by a werewolf – though I'm not sure we have any One-Size robes left. Let me check in the back.' Madam Malkin disappeared off into the shop, the red-haired boy emerging once again from a changing booth and looking around.

'Is it true? Are you a Metamorphmagus?' He asked Phoenix, eyes fixed on her hair, although wandering downwards at some points.

'I guess so.' Phoenix replied.

'Cool.' The boy said, 'My mum always said they were freaks and circus acts, though. You don't live in a circus, do you?' He asked, slowly back-stepping.

'No, I don't!' Phoenix snapped, 'I'd tell your mum that she's just an ill-informed bitch if I were you!' Phoenix had heard her father call her mother a bitch before, and although she had no idea what it meant, she guessed it was pretty insulting.

'Don't call my mum a bitch you circus freak!' The boy screamed, backing away further. His hand reached down into his pocket and pulled out a wand which he shakily pointed and Phoenix, 'I swear, I'll do it! I'll blast you bits!'

Phoenix was about to scream for help when the wand left the boy's grip seemingly of its own accord. Madam Malkin was standing fiercely behind him, her own wand grasped in her right hand, leaving her left free to pluck the boy's wand from mid-air. 'There will be no fighting in my shop! Understand?' She barked. The boy nodded quickly, snatched back his wand and ran back inside his booth. Phoenix was shaking with a mix of fear and rage, her body frozen to the spot and her eyes wide. She breathed hard and fast, still trying to make sense of the event. 'Now dear, don't worry, just an over-zealous first year. I'm sure Evan will keep you two separated after I send word to the school.' She twisted around and pulled a pile of items off the side-board. 'By some measure of luck I discovered these buried at the back of the store, the last three I have as well by the looks of it. Now, just leave your name so I can get it stitched in these and come back when you've bought your cauldron, else you'll be left hauling everything back in your arms.'

'It's Phoenix, Mrs Malkin, Phoenix Brite.' Phoenix said, peering over Madam Malkin as Evan made his way across to them.

'You were taking a while, so I got you your books and a cauldron for storage on the way back, looks like I was just in time too.' Evan said, dumping the huge metal pot on the floor.

'Ah, Evan, just the man, I need a word with you after I've done this stitching, it concerns Miss Brite and another student who's currently hiding out in one of these cubicles.' Madam Malkin said without looking up. Instead, she was focussing on stitching in a series of fiery name tags.

'I'll meet you back outside, Phoenix.' Evan said when Madam Malkin had finished, 'This shouldn't take long.'


	7. Chapter 6: A Gift of Flame

**Chapter 6: A Gift of Flame**

The door of Madam Malkin's swung open, Evan bidding Madam Malkin goodbye and scanning the area for Phoenix, whom he soon found ogling at something in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Phoenix was oblivious to this, distracted very much by the contents of the shop. Had she not learned about Quidditch from Kingsley Shacklebolt earlier that day, she would've been wondering exactly why there was a shop dedicated to selling brushes in a magical shopping district. As it happens, her thoughts were currently on how it all worked. No matter how many times she ran it through her head, she could not imagine someone flying a broomstick. Where were the controls? There was no wheel or brakes or even an engine, and it would take a large amount of skill to flying it using your wand whilst also maintaining balance.

'You know first years aren't allowed brooms, right? I mean, I assume that you read the letter.' Evan said, causing Phoenix to jump.

'Yes I read it!' She snapped, angry at being startled. 'I don't want to buy one, only to know how it works.'

'You'll find out when you get to Hogwarts, but I must warn you that your mother's reputation might be brought up at some points, so I'll need to educate you on it.' Evan replied.

'Reputation?' Phoenix enquired, 'You mean she used to fly brooms?'

'Yes, and she was a damn good flier too.' Evan said, staring up into space, 'The stuff she could do would put even Victor Krum to shame.' He smiled as his memories floated around his head, before snapping back into reality, 'But I digress, your mother was an amazing Seeker, won Ravenclaw the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Gryffindor's winning streak ended. Had an unbeaten record all the way up until we graduated.'

Phoenix stared at Evan, his eyes glazed as he recollected the memories of his student years, 'You knew my mum?'

Evan glanced down at her and smiled, 'Knew her? We were an item for the first two years of our education. Of course, then she got swept off her feet by some of the more good looking guys who probably only liked her because she could play Quidditch, but I digress, yes, I knew her.' He looked back up and stared forwards, 'Now, you need a wand.'

Phoenix followed Evan as he strode past the crowds, she noticed more of a spring in his step now, as if something had revitalised him, 'Didn't you already get me one, you know, when you got the rest of my stuff?' she held up her hefty cauldron and shook it, listening to piles of books as they toppled down and a deafening clang as one of her scale's weights hit the bottom; it still amazed her everything could fit.

'To quote the words of the great Ollivander, the wand chooses the wizard.' Evan replied, 'I don't understand how, but he's right, only a wand that acknowledges you as its true master can reveal it's true potential.'

Phoenix imagined lining up with other students as a man prodded them with a wand and shuddered, _that would just be embarrassing_ she thought to herself. A few minutes of brisk walk later and they stopped outside a very old shop, its name written in peeling gold lettering, 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' The idea that this shop, or at least the family who owned it had been making wands for that long astonished Phoenix, as did the lone wand sitting in the window perched upon a faded purple cushion. Evan ushered her inside, where she was met by a warm and airy room, although it looked to need a good dusting, as everything was coated in it. The broken pieces of a spindly chair sat quietly at the far right wall, a wall that housed hundreds of named boxes in a seemingly random order. Upon looking around, Phoenix found most all of the shop was lined with boxes and shelves containing more boxes. In the centre of the room was a small desk, with just a lamp, a quill and a piece of blank parchment sitting neatly upon it. It looked like it was just there for show, as the lamp flame failed to flicker or even move. Nothing moved.

'He mustn't be in, let's go-' Phoenix started, cut off by the sound of a wheeled object coming from one of the alleys between the shelves. A second later, a ladder emerged, speeding down the shelf on wheels before coming neatly to a stop at the end. Upon the ladder was a short, thin man with wild grey hair and wizened eyes, a man Phoenix assumed was Ollivander. His bony stature could've fooled anyone if the man hadn't jumped off the ladder, landed perfectly on the floor and strode over to Phoenix in swift and elegant movements.

'Ah, another aspiring witch I see.' He eyed Phoenix carefully, inspecting every little crevice and poking around her features like an artist scrutinizing his sculpture. He then grabbed her right hand and held it palm up before him, stroking down several of the lines and muttering indecipherable strings of words to himself. He then did the same with the other hand. 'Interesting, very interesting,' Ollivander muttered, 'Calm temperament, fiery passion when determined, friendly at times, curious at others, suffered a lot of recent stress and yet is standing before me devoid of any and all aesthetic blemishes and faults.' He rose and turned on his heel, scoping the room and pointing around with a bony finger at the surrounding shelves. 'Ah-ha!' He cried, darting over to one of the shelves and plucking a slender dusty box covered in black and gold letters from its resting place.

He pulled off the lid and withdrew the wand, placing it handle-first into Phoenix's hand, 'Phoenix feather, 12", Yew.' Phoenix held it in her hand, the wooden structure feeling unnaturally warm and smooth. 'Well, what are you waiting for? Give it a wave!' Ollivander said. Phoenix twirled it through the air, sending out a weak wave that blew the parchment off the desk, as well as the lamp which smashed, although the flame still burned brightly.

'Ah.' Ollivander took the wand from Phoenix and placed it on his desk, ignoring the fallen lamp. He pulled out a second box, blue and gold this time, with a blue felt lining, '11"5, Dragon Heart-string, Yew, substantially springy, might I add, although retaining a good amount of rigidity.' He placed the wand in Phoenix's palm, and immediately she felt a sense of warmth flow from its core and into her body. She pointed it at the remnants of the spindly chair and flicked it up, each piece leaping into the air at the command. Ollivander's face radiated joy, 'I knew it was one of those two, that heart-string was plucked from a young Swedish Short-Snout that had picked a fight with a rather angry clan of Giants. He won, mind you, though he died of his injuries later, or so we suspect; either that or something he ate disagreed with him.' Ollivander started over to the other wand when he stopped in place and turned around, 'Knew I'd forgotten something, taking into account the length, the core and the wood it all comes to a total of 8 galleons, no more, no less.'

As Phoenix and Evan left the shop, Phoenix came across something on her list of items, 'How much are pets usually?' She asked Evan, who was staring up at the late afternoon sky.

'Pets? Na, you don't want a pet just yet. School owls are fine, but you've got nobody that will be expecting owl mail waiting around here at the moment.' He replied, 'Wise investment for after the first year, once you make a few friends and you want to keep in touch, but before then it's too much hassle. As for regular pets, unless your dad is a cat person or toad person, I wouldn't. Cats are a damned nuisance, and toads are hardly the cutest things around.'

Phoenix was disheartened, and kept the mood all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron pub, even stopping to look into the window of the Magical Menagerie pet shop before being dragged away by Evan. Back in her room, Phoenix got to work sorting her things out. At several points she was surprised by the cauldron, most of all when she pulled a large telescope from its bowels. Finally, the cauldron was empty, and she went around everything that now covered the floor of the room, ticking them off the list one by one until she got an awkwardly long and thin parcel. _It can't be another telescope_. She dropped to her knees net to it and prodded it with the quill she was holding and had been practising ticking with. It rocked a bit and then went still again. She tore the paper slightly and peered inside, deciding then to tear away the rest. Lying on the floor was large broomstick. The wood shaft was polished to a shine and the tail was expertly crafted and shaped with not a twig loose. Near the end of the shaft was a bundle of flame-red lettering, '_Inferno'_. As Phoenix reached around to grasp it, she felt something and pulled it around. Attached to the handle was a note, scrawled in messy handwriting that was very familiar to her,

'To my Phoenix.'


	8. Chapter 7: A Chance Encounter

**A/N:** I'd just like to thank the readers that have stayed with this story an apologise for the sporadic updating. The first few chapters were basically done in my mind, so were easy to write, but these last few have been getting harder and harder, and life is catching up bla bla bla. Anyway, I'm always up for constructive criticism (strictly constructive) if anyone has any comments, and I'd like to say that there are two sequels being planned, each based on one of the two different endings to this story that I have planned, so anyone who wants in on the planning can drop me an e-mail at any time and give their thoughts. Anywho, I think I've stolen enough of your time, enjoy Chapter 7!

**Chapter 7: A Chance Encounter**

Phoenix stared at the tag endlessly, her eyes welling up with tears as if floodgates behind them had been opened. Her mother was somewhere, perhaps even this very building, and was still alive … although it made no sense to keep quiet. Maybe she was on the run from something, no, they'd have tracked her down by now. Great salty tear-drops rolled down her face and splashed onto the wooden floor she was kneeling on. In one slow movement she moved her legs up to her face and buried her head between her knees, sobbing uncontrollably into her jeans. After a few minutes and several comforting comments from the mirror, Phoenix lifted her head out from between her knees, her eyes red and sore from where she'd been rubbing them against her jeans. Large wet stains covered the dark blue tone of her trousers and patches of dried tears clung to her face as she went about wiping them away with the sleeve of her blazer. She looked down at the inert broomstick and made a start re-wrapping it as the reminder at the bottom of her equipment list entered her thoughts '_Parents are reminded that first years are not allowed their own broomsticks_'. If her mother was indeed at Hogwarts before her, surely she'd know?

There was a small knock at the door which she recognised as Evan's signature knock, although it felt slightly hurried,

'Yes?' Phoenix asked. The door swung open and Evan appeared in the doorway, messing with his robes.

'Ah, Phoenix, just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving for Hogwarts, I'm needed there ASAP and I doubt I'll see you before your first day, so I've just come up to say goodbye, and is that a broomstick?' Evan's words were rushed and barely understandable, but Phoenix managed to figure out what he'd said.

'Why? What's happened?' She asked, trying to hide the fact that a bunch of twigs were poking out from within a sheet of brown wrapping paper.

'No time to say, it's classified anyway, and is that a broomstick?' Evan was more direct with his question this time, his finger pointing right at the parcel.

'Yes, it is … it's from my Mum.' Phoenix looked down at it, 'I suppose you'll want to take it off me till next year.'

'What? Oh heavens no, only, I wonder how it came to be here… No matter, I expect all will become clear in time.' He started off down the corridor only to turn on his heel and march back, 'You'll be wanting to know how to get to the platform on the 1st, yes, just go between platforms 9 and 10 and focus on the people with huge trunks, people with Owls are the best to watch. You'll soon see.' And with that, he disappeared. Phoenix ran to the door and looked both ways down the long corridor, but nobody was there. She was about the return inside when one of the doors further down opened and the blonde girl she'd seen in Madam Malkin's nervously walked out, ushered by a tall and thin wizard dressed in white robes.

'Hi.' The blonde called out, waving at Phoenix.

'Hi.' Phoenix gave a small wave and a quick smile as she watched the girl being pushed along by the white-robed wizard. Phoenix moved back into her room and shut the door, looking down at the broomstick once more before carefully lifting it and propping it up against the wall. She slid a hand down the smooth shaft and admired the work that must've gone into it. A series of sharp knocks on the door startled Phoenix and she snapped out of her daze, shuffling over to the door and pulling it ajar.

'Mr Evan Toras wanted me to bring this up after his departure, I dare say you'll be needing it.' The man known as Tom stood hunchbacked at the door, pulling a large black and gold trunk behind him. He looked strangely like Igor from all the Frankenstein parodies she'd seen on television, with disproportionate eyes, missing teeth and a general ugliness about him. Upon the trunk were the initials P.B. which were handily her own initials, and her mothers. The trunk, she assumed, had previously belonged to her mother, who was only now revealing the extent of what she'd done for her and the planning she'd made.

'Thanks Tom.' Phoenix replied, smiling at the man before her. He gave a throaty chuckle and swung the trunk around, narrowly missing both the wall and Phoenix, before thrusting it at the girl and walking off down the hall towards the bar. She pulled the trunk inside and onto her bed, unclasping it and inspecting the lining, looking out for hidden pockets or a removable side. To her disappointment, she found it to be extraordinarily… ordinary. The lining was firm and mostly intact, suffering only minor wear and tear. All pockets were empty bar a bit of lint and everything seemed to be in order. Deciding that it was probably for the best that she didn't find any notes or packages, she got to work packing everything she wouldn't need over the next few days, stopping only when it came to her broom.

Deciding it best to just disguise it as something from home, she left the Leaky Cauldron and entered the busy London street in front of it, watching the unflinching crowds move quickly, all failing to notice the girl that had appeared out of what would be, through their eyes, a run down shop that should've fallen apart years ago. After several minutes of pushing through crowds, scanning shop windows and inhaling fumes from the clogged streets that were choking with cars, she arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron carrying a roll of Sellotape and various sizes of cushion. Weaving her way through the tables, she found the stairs blocked by the blonde girl, who was walking down them backwards and talking loudly to someone in the corridor,

'Yes, I know, but I'll be fine! It's only down the main street- AH!' She slipped and fell onto Phoenix who broke her fall, the pair crashing to the floor in a mess of limbs, flying cushions and Sellotape. The white-robed wizard from earlier rushed to the stairs, vaulting them and pulling Phoenix and the blonde girl apart.

'I told you to look where you're going, Faia!' He roared, drawing shady glances from all over the pub. He pulled Faia up by the arm. For the first time, Phoenix managed to inspect this mysterious person who kept appearing everywhere. First things after her waist-length golden blonde hair were a pair of strange green eyes that seemed to shine of their own accord at random intervals. Her nose was slightly pointed, extending over a pair of light pink lips. Not a blemish was visible on her light skin, skin irregularities seemed to be noticeably uncommon throughout the wizarding world.

'Yes father, sorry father.' Faia looked down at her feet, she was slightly shorter than Phoenix, who herself was 5'7 and originating from a reasonably tall family. The white-robed wizard looked up at Phoenix and smiled,

'I'm sorry about my daughter, she's somewhat clumsy at the best of times.' He extended a very masculine hand, which Phoenix took in a firm grip, 'A good firm handshake, you're quite a confident person are you not? Reasonably curious but willing to take risks, sure about many things, unsure about many more, forever questioning the unquestionable and demanding answers from the ever reluctant stars, fiery passion and puts heart and soul into everything for which you care dearly.' Phoenix was dumbfounded. A strange man hand just shaken her hand and from it, learned almost everything about her personality, 'Ah, but I forget my manners, I am Khairos Fairewater, Divination teacher at Hogwarts, Astro Majori of the Ministry's Seer Order and son of the first member of the Seer Order and first Astro Mastori, Lucio Fairewater, and despite me already knowing who you are, and this little incident would happen, I see that it would be far more polite of me to go on without telling anyone and to ask you for your name.'

Phoenix was taken aback by the introduction and was still very confused as to what most of it all meant, but obliged Khairos' request, 'Phoenix Brite, Professor Khairos.'

'Of course.' He laughed, his young face reflecting the happiness through wide brown eyes and a large smile, 'But I implore you, as long as we are not in Hogwarts, call me Khairos. I also suggest asking me to smuggle your new broom into the school for you, as I fear that using that muggle rubbish won't help you one bit. Do not worry, I know what you think, I shall not be confiscating it, no, in fact, I believe that it will be of most aid being kept well out of sight under your bed at the school until the time comes when it is needed.' Khairos winked, 'But I am in no doubt that your mind will soon explode if I pile on information for much longer, and I also doubt that Faia is getting any less eager to make her first Hogwarts friend, so I will make myself scarce. Only one thing remains, may I retrieve your broom for you?'

Phoenix nodded and Khairos bowed, bid her farewell and leapt back up the stairs towards the rooms, leaving Phoenix and Faia on the staircase picking up the dropped cushions, 'Guess I won't be needing these anymore.' Phoenix said, trying to make conversation.

'I wouldn't be so quick to throw these out; you never know when you might need some mobile comfort.' Faia replied, staring at the random stitches on the cushion in her hands.

'Yeah…' Said Phoenix as she found the roll of Sellotape and shoved it into her pocket, scooping up the last of the cushions and making towards the stairs.

'Doyouwannashareacompartment?'

'Huh?' Phoenix turned around to face Faia, trying to decipher what the girl had just said.

'On the train, I was wondering if you wanted to share a compartment. Only I don't know anyone else but my brothers, but one of them is a Prefect and the other always 'hangs out' with his girlfriend apparently, so I've got nobody to sit with.' Faia gave a quick smile followed by a nervous laugh.

Phoenix stared at the girl for a second, figuring that gaining a friend early on wasn't something she'd pass up, 'Sure, I'd be happy to.' She watched Faia breathe a large sigh of relief.

'Great!' Faia said peering over Phoenix's shoulder as Khairos reappeared at the top of the stairs, 'Gotta go now, and maybe see you later on?'

'Yeah, maybe.' Phoenix replied, waving as Faia and her father left through the back of the pub and made for Diagon Alley.


	9. Chapter 8: A Friend in Need

**A/N: **I'm sorry for the later updates but life keeps getting in the way and I keep re-writing what i've written and still thinking it's not good enough. I'm just having a bit of a hard time on this end, but the story isn't dead. Thanks for you understanding.

**Chapter 8: A Friend in Need**

The last week fly by now that Phoenix had someone her own age to communicate with. Evan was always chatty, yet despite being relatively young, talking to him felt strange, and he often forgot about things or brought up subjects that Phoenix didn't understand; however, he was the only person who she could really confide in until she met Faia; and so she persevered. As the 1st of September loomed ever closer, the topics turned away from which famous person they'd rather marry (which was a tricky topic in itself due to the cultural differences) and towards Hogwarts. Faia had grown up in a rather large family, and was the fourth member after two further sisters and a brother, all of whom had attended or was attending Hogwarts.

'My brother said that you have to turn someone into a frog before you can get in, and if you can't do it then your magic is taken away forever, but my sisters said that wasn't true.' Faia unconvincingly told Phoenix as they sat in the bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

Phoenix stirred her tea (which was currently a foul grey colour) to distract herself from her thoughts. She imagined herself being thrown out by Professor McGonagall and told to find her own way home and to never go anywhere magical again. She then tried to reassure herself that Evan wouldn't let it happen, but somehow she couldn't make it feel like the truth. Phoenix looked up and snapped out of her daze in time to hear Faia ask her something, 'Yeah, yeah, I agree.' Phoenix said, wondering whether it was convincing enough. Faia stared at her with searching eyes and her mouth broke out into a wide grin.

'You have absolutely no idea what I just said, do you?' Faia laughed. Phoenix shook her head and turned cherry red out of embarrassment. 'I said, do you want to go and try to find something edible?' Faia whispered the last part just in case anyone heard and took it upon themselves to pass it on.

Phoenix stared down at her grey cup of tea and sighed, 'Yeah, I think it's best.' She rose from her seat and followed Faia out into the back of the Leaky Cauldron, wondering where the girl got all her energy from. It was only half-past-ten in the morning and she was already skipping and hopping around like a rabbit on steroids. As Phoenix grinned at the mental image conjured up by her thoughts, Faia was working out which brick to tap, soon finding it at poking it three times with her index finger. The bricks slid away and revealed the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, now even more crowded as parents and children went about gathering last-minute school supplies for the next day, taking advantage of the sales that preceded the journey to Hogwarts.

Faia took Phoenix's hand and led her through the crowds, weaving in and out until they stopped outside a quaint little café. Phoenix sat down on a free chair outside whilst Faia went in to order the drinks. Whether it was out of lack of knowledge of the magical world, or just out of sheer nerves, all Phoenix asked for was some water. Faia came back holding a tall glass of ice cool water and a glass of something pink with ice cubes and full of bubbles.

'What's that?' Phoenix asked, gesturing at the pink drink.

'That, is a delicious drink I found when my father invited one of the school professors around to discuss some work details. I can't for the life of me remember which on it was, but father was set upon having this whenever we had the ingredients. All you need is some soda and cherry syrup, maybe a few ice cubes and one of those cute mini umbrellas.' Faia picked up the glass and sniffed it, smiling slightly and taking a large sip. Phoenix burst into laughter as Faia's eyelids flickered and her mouth pursed, only stopping a few seconds after Faia had swallowed and calmed down, 'Damn bubbles caught the back of my throat.' She complained.

Phoenix looked down at her unimpressive glass of water and took a few sips, enjoying the cooling effect it had on her as the lazy late August sun beamed down on the alley. She and Faia talked for the next few hours, often going over previous topics but occasionally being inspired by things they passed. Upon their return to the Leaky Cauldron, they found Khairos waiting at the bar, long fingers drumming lightly on the wood. As Faia walked into the room he quickly stood and strode over,

'I told you not the leave, Faia, it was- Oh.' Khairos stopped accosting Faia when he noticed Phoenix walk in behind her, 'Good evening, Phoenix, may I steal Faia away for a quick word?' He said as politely as possible, as if he didn't already know the answer. Despite him already edging away, Phoenix nodded and walked over to a nearby table, waiting for Faia to arrive back.

After half an hour, Phoenix was about to leave for her room when Faia walked back into the bar, eyes red and puffy. She slid onto the chair next to Phoenix and sniffed loudly, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her azure blue and silver dress,

'What's wrong?' Phoenix enquired, concerned about the condition of her friend.

'Oh, it's probably nothing.' Faia replied, sniffing again, 'They said she'll be fine, but she won't be able to fly well after.'

'Oh.' Phoenix said, looking away. She had no idea what Faia was on about, and so thought it best not to come across as being knowledgeable about the magical world.

Faia stared at Phoenix and groaned, 'Oh how silly of me! I forgot you don't know about a lot here…' She cut off as she blew her nose on a tear stained handkerchief she'd withdrawn from her dress, 'I'm on about my owl, Athena; she was attacked by a pair of hunting falcons on the way back from an important trip. Her wings were badly damage and probably won't grow back properly-' Faia burst into tears again and buried her face in the handkerchief.

Phoenix put a comforting arm around her and Faia threw herself at Phoenix, embracing her in a tight hug and crying deeply into her shoulder. Faia pulled herself off Phoenix after a few minutes, wiping the tears from her eyes with her dress sleeve and pocketing the soaked handkerchief,

'Sorry.' She said to Phoenix, who was eyeing the damp patch on her t-shirt, 'I can't control myself when I'm like that.'

'No problem, me neither.' Phoenix replied, smiling at Faia.

'You probably think I'm a soft loser, getting worked up about an animal.' Faia said, looking away.

'No, it's only natural to cry when you lose someone close to you.' Phoenix responded, her voice growing silent near the end as she remembered the point where her mother vanished into the green flame of the fireplace using what Evan said was Floo powder. She remembered him saying something about there being wizarding families in the American state of Arizona who possibly had fireplaces hooked up to the Global Floo Network, but it was highly unlikely that Phoenix's mother had popped out of one, as even the more stupid wizards would've known something was up and alerted somebody.

'Thanks.' Faia said, pulling Phoenix out from her mind, 'You're the first true friend I've ever had.'

Phoenix blushed, not knowing what to say, 'Really, it was nothing, it's what friends are for.'

They stared at each other for a second and, sensing the awkwardness, promptly started to rise from the table and glance around the room, 'Off to bed for me, got a big day tomorrow.' Faia pointed out. Phoenix had almost forgotten that tomorrow would be the 1st of September and that they'd be on their way to Hogwarts. Something tickled her insides at the thought, the excitement building up as she followed Faia out of the bar and towards the rooms.

'I think I'll go to bed too, I don't know what I'd do if I missed the train.' Phoenix replied.

'Oh you won't, I'll wake you up tomorrow morning when it's time, and I'll carry you onto the train myself if you refuse to wake!' Faia joked.

Phoenix reached her room and unlocked the door, giving Faia a quick hug before entering and locking it behind her. Tomorrow, she would be starting the greatest journey of her life.


	10. Chapter 9: A New Start

**A/N: **A huge thanks everyone who's stuck with this story, if it weren't for some poking and pushing i'd probably still be twiddling my thumbs and fussing over if my story is good enough or if i'm a good enough writer. Just saying that Chapter 10 is basically finished and just needs to read-over work, so it shouldn't be long before I get that uploaded; but I hope you all enjoy the double-upload =)

**Chapter 9: A New Start**

Phoenix was awoken by a sharp rapping on the door to her room. She rolled over and tried to block out the noise, but it was too loud. Eventually she gave in and sluggishly left her warm bed, groping around for a dressing gown she found on a hangar some feet away. After lazily pulling the jet-black gown over her and tying it, and many shrieks of 'Okay! I'm coming!' she unlocked the door and opened it,

'Ouch!' She cried as something hard struck her forehead.

'Oh dear, I am so dreadfully sorry!' Khairos was leaning with his back against the wall, wand held casually in his left hand and pointing at something that looked vaguely like a fist, 'Nice little charm that, saves you having to do it all yourself, the knocking, I mean, not punching people.' He was quick to acknowledge the large red mark on Phoenix's forehead where the magical fist had struck her.

'Never mind; these things happen I guess…' Phoenix replied, rubbing the mark with her hand, 'What time is it?'

'Oh, seven O'clock in the morning.' Khairos blurted, staring down at a strange silver watch, 'I'm sorry but I must dash as I am needed up at the school to aid in the preparations. Faia is waiting for you downstairs.'

Before Phoenix could question him further, he was already marching down the corridor, his sparkling white cloak billowing behind him. She thought it best to make sure everything was ready now, and she checked everything off on a small piece of parchment she'd found on the desk in her room. Using a quill and ink weren't as alien as she first anticipated, and it was just the scratching that annoyed her, although she quickly grew accustomed to it,

'Okay, broomstick, check.' She ticked next to the word on the parchment, 'Books, check. Cauldron, check. Money, check.' It was at that point that she realised she'd forgotten one fatal thing. How she would get to King's Cross in the first place. She couldn't be seen trawling all her wizarding stuff around London followed by a similar girl who stared at everything around her, in complete awe of muggle lifestyle. At that moment, something tapped on the glass of the window behind her and she jumped so violently that she tore the parchment in two. Turning sharply on her heels, she spun around and saw a large tawny owl with an envelope clamped in its beak sitting on the windowsill outside. Phoenix walked over to the window and unlatched it, letting the owl hop in. She took the envelope from its beak and started to pull it open, stopping as the owl kept nipping at her fingers and screeching loudly,

'She wants some food.' Phoenix jumped again and yelped at the surprise entry of Faia, who came in and stood next to Phoenix, a few bits of bacon held in the palm of her hand. The owl hooted merrily as it ate the scraps, eyeing the thicker slices on the plate Faia brought with her, 'I also thought that you might like some too.'

'Faia! Don't do that! You know I startle easily.' Phoenix said, 'Although you came just in time, I was afraid this guy would start taking chunks out of me if I just kept standing there.' She reached for the owl, which turn its head and nipped her angrily on the finger as it guarded the stash of bacon. Recoiling, she left Faia to tend to the owl and headed over to the bed, where she sat herself down and tore the envelope open, revealing a small slip of parchment and two small and metallic gold tickets. She reached for the parchment first,

'Dear Phoenix and Phoenix's friend,

I thought you might be a little stuck for travel, so I managed to persuade Professor McGonagall to give you these two tickets. They'll allow you to travel on any wizarding transport – apart from the Hogwart's Express, but you already have your tickets – for free on the date they're valid. All you need do is leave the Leaky Cauldron and stick out your wand hand as if hailing down a muggle taxi. That should summon the Knight Bus which you'll take to King's Cross, show the conductor the tickets and he'll let you on for free, and you'll get a complementary cup of hot chocolate! From there on, you're on your own, though.

All the best,

Professor Evan Toras.

P.S. Sorry about your friend, I never caught her name.

P.P.S. Actually, I should've remembered it in madam Malkin's, Faia isn't it?

P.P.P.S. Your broom arrived safely; it is in my office for safe-keeping.'

'Hey, Faia, come over here.' Phoenix said, still staring as Faia bounded across the room to her. Phoenix passed her the note and one of the tickets. Printed on it was a large 'H' and a small sentence that read, 'I, Minerva McGonagall, request that the bearer of this ticket be allowed free access to necessary wizarding transport on account of important Hogwarts business that must be taken care of swiftly and without unnecessary delay.'

'I don't get it, how do they know it's not a fake?' Faia asked, staring at her ticket.

'I dunno.' Phoenix replied, 'Perhaps a spell of some sort?'

'Perhaps.' Faia's eyes glazed over a little and then she snapped back into reality, 'Sorry, got lost in my thoughts.' She said, looking flustered. She rolled up the sleeve on her left arm and revealed an exact replica of her father's watch on her wrist. She gazed at it for a while and tugged the sleeve down, 'Unless I'm very much mistaken, it's almost nine O'clock, we'd best get ready.'

Phoenix was stunned, 'Nine O'clock? Already? Are you sure?'

'Not really, although time works in strange ways. It's best to be early than late, though.' Faia replied.

After an easy half an hour of packing the remnants of their possessions and confirming that the time was indeed now half past nine (much to the delight of Faia), the pair sat in the bar of the pub going over the plans for the journey.

'So,

we get on, find a nice comfy compartment near the middle of the train, change into robes around halfway through the journey and read up on what we're facing?' Phoenix went over the plan for the umpteenth time.

'For the umpteenth time, yes!' Faia laughed, 'Don't worry!'

They left the pub at ten O'clock and followed the instructions Evan had given them. Seconds after Phoenix had flung her arm out, a tall, triple-decker; garish purple bus sped out from a side street and rocketed towards the two girls, stopping millimetres away from the curb. On the back was a slightly boyish man, his hair a dirty blonde and his face covered in spot scars. Two reasonably large ears sat on either side of his head. He wore a dirty black and purple bus conductor's uniform plus matching cap, and had a ticket machine hanging from his neck. He hopped off the bus and pulled a torn bit of a parchment out of his top pocket, then cleared his throat and read aloud,

'Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor today.' He stood staring at the two girls, nobody moving, 'Well? You gunna buy a ticket or not?'

'Oh, no, we have these.' Phoenix flashed her ticket, as did Faia. Stan took the tickets, bit them, held them both up to the light and finally slotted them into the ticket machine, which gave a loud, high pitched 'ping!'

'Oh, also seems you're entitled to a free 'ot chocolate each.' Stan looked behind him and bent down, 'The 'ot chocolate's a scam, there ain't no 'ot chocolate, you'd be down to St Mungo's burns department faster than a… sumfink fast.' He whispered, 'Now, where to?'

'King's cross.' Faia said, pointing to the luggage behind her and Phoenix.

'Ah, o' course. Oi! Ern! We got special deliveries to King's Cross courtesy o' 'ogwarts.' Stan shouted into the bus, 'Don' worry, I'll get 'em trunks.' He turned and said to the two girls.

Phoenix followed Faia inside, gazing at the rows and rows of seats, a lot of which seemed exceedingly unstable. Bolted to the ceiling of the bus was a great glass chandelier that seemed strangely out of place in a bus. At the wheel was a small, elderly wizard wearing large thick-framed glasses. Instead of a regular seat, there was a dirty green armchair that looked as though it had been an old bit of furniture at some point. Stan pushed past the two girls and gazed around the almost empty first deck. He soon slid the two trunks under some seats near the back, at the same time pulling a tall but thin wizard out from underneath another row of seats. The wizard's robes were crimson and covered in muck,

'Sorry 'bout the ol' sudden stop Mr Trackler, dust yerself off an' 'old on to the railin's next time.' Stan apologised, brushing some dirt off the wizard's arm and then making his way towards the front of the bus, 'Ms Brown, Mr Dongae and Mr Arlie, 'fraid yer gunna 'ave a bit o' a wait, gotta go to King's Cross firs' he shouted up the stairs. Three inaudible voices of several pitches replied and Stan tapped on the wall to the driver's compartment, 'Take 'er away, Ern.' He said, smiling wryly at Phoenix and Faia as they took their wobbly seats.

Ern jumped and pushed a few buttons, causing the bus to shudder. Suddenly, it shook and tore down the road, weaving in and out of the cars. Phoenix watched as lampposts and dustbins leapt out of the bus' way as it continued its speedy run. The streets were littered with cars and the pavements with muggles, all of them oblivious to the triple-decker purple bus that contracted and squeezed through the smallest of gaps before expanding again and racing away. The seats rolled across the floor on wheels, going with the flow of the bus and making Phoenix feel quite ill. Faia, however, seemed to be enjoying the experience.

It took only a short time for King's Cross station to enter view, and a far shorter time to violently stop next to it, throwing all the seats and luggage to the front and launching the man known as Mr Trackler up and over the row of seats in front of him. Stan grinned to himself as he went to fetch Phoenix's and Faia's bags from the front, giving them directions to the station trolleys and stepping back on board the bus.

'Well, I'll be seein' ya. People to go, places to meet ya know.' He smiled and dipped his head in a small bow, clutching to the pole at the back of the bus with one hand, the other waving. A second later, the bus had gone.

The two girls heaved their trunks over to the trolleys, loaded them with their baggage and started over to platform 9, hoping to find the entrance to 9 and ¾. Faia knew more or less where it was, having followed her siblings there before her, and it took only a few minutes before they were standing before a giant brick pillar, with a sign saying '9' on the left-hand side, and '10' on the right-hand side.

'What's the time?' Phoenix asked, staring at the solid barrier.

'Quarter-to-Eleven.' Faia replied, looking down at her watch. Whilst the Knight Bus was fast, the careful manoeuvring necessary to avoid the muggle traffic had taken time, although it still beat being caught in a traffic jam on a muggle taxi, or having to push through the bustling crowds of London's streets.

'So, what now?' Phoenix enquired, looking over at Faia.

'We run.' Faia said as she wheeled her trolley back and lined up with the brick barrier.

'Surely not? You'll crash!' Phoenix shouted, ignoring the stares from passers by.

'It's important that you not think you'll crash, taking it at a run is best. If all goes well you'll pass straight through and onto the platform.' Faia winked and Phoenix, 'Meet on the other side.' Phoenix watched, mouth agape, as Faia pushed her trolley forwards, picking up speed until she was at a full run, aiming directly for the barrier. Phoenix closed her eyes and prepared for the crash from the inevitable collision. But it never came. She opened her eyes and Faia was gone. She wasn't anywhere on the platform, so she must've gone through.

Phoenix lined herself up with the barrier, taking a deep breath and running at it. Three metres, two metres, she was going to hit it! 'Whack!' She found herself thrown to the floor, her trolley toppling over and her whole left side aching. She sat up, wincing at the pain and staring up at a large boy with greasy black hair, piercing green eyes and an angry snarl.

'Watch where you're going, bitch!' He shouted, before disappearing through the barrier.

Phoenix got up and collected her trolley, placing her trunk onto it and running at the barrier, determined to get through. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the gap closed; only opening them when she was sure that she was through. Before her was a grand crimson steam train, with Hogwarts Express on the front of the engine in large gold letters on a red plaque. The sign on the side showed a strange crest, with 4 animals surrounding a black 'H'. The sight was enthralling. She turned and saw many children of all sizes and ages waving goodbye to their parents, and only quickly realised that the platform contained exceedingly few students, the last ones struggling with trunks or clothing or a bothersome pet.

'Phoenix!' Faia called from the closest door. Phoenix turned and saw her gesturing for the trunk. She pulled the trunk off the trolley and quickly passed it to Faia, clambering aboard just before the doors closed. A large clock on the wall at the back of the platform chimed 11 O'clock, and the train started moving, edging further and further away from the station. Phoenix stared through the window as her whole past, her previous life, was flashing away before her eyes, and making way for a new start. Phoenix smiled and started off down the corridor through the carriages to find Faia.


	11. Chapter 10: Burning Lust

**Chapter 10: Burning Lust**

It didn't take her long to find Faia, her shimmering blonde hair standing out in the mix of dark blacks, muddy browns and inferior blonde tones. She was jamming Phoenix's trunk into the shelf above one of the seats in a surprisingly empty compartment when Phoenix walked in,

'What have you got in this thing?' Faia asked Phoenix as she successfully positioned the trunk and slid down into her seat, panting.

'Oh, just the necessities,' Phoenix replied, 'Why? It's not that heavy.'

Faia opened her mouth to argue, but thought it best not to, instead shrugging and patting the seat next to her as she stretched her legs out in front of her, resting her feet on the seat opposite. Phoenix followed suit, revelling in the freedom that was abruptly interrupted seconds later by a sharp tap on the compartment door. Faia looked up and groaned, Phoenix looked up and saw a tall, slim girl standing beaming behind the door, a shiny gold badge saying 'Head Girl' pinned to her black robes. She had similar coloured hair to Faia, except she was wearing hers in a ponytail so long that the tip tickled her waistline. She had innocent blue eyes and a fair face that was warming and friendly. Phoenix turned to Faia, who had turned a bright shade of red,

'Oh no…' She whispered as the head girl opened the door and walked in.

'Hi Faia!' The joyous tones resonated around the room, to Phoenix it was like she'd just met the epitome of happiness.

'Lo Roxy.' Faia mumbled.

'Oh cheer up!' Roxy sighed, 'At least introduce your bestest sister to your friend.'

'Phoenix, this is Roxy, my 'bestest' sister, Roxy, this is Phoenix; I met her at the Leaky Cauldron when dad took me to Diagon Alley.' Faia muttered in monotonous undertones.

'Delighted to meet you, Phoenix!' Roxy extended a hand towards Phoenix, who took it partly because she was being nice but mostly just out of confusion.

'Nice to meet you too, Roxy.' She replied.

'I assume Faia has told you all about me, and a bit about our other sisters and our brother?' Roxy continued to smile despite Faia's increased glow.

'Erm, well… she told me a bit…' Phoenix lied.

'Faia! I'm hurt that you wouldn't even mention us!' Roxy turned towards the compartment door.

'Roxy! Don't be an arse!' Faia said, 'You're embarrassing me!'

Roxy sighed and opened the compartment door, 'Sorry Faia, sorry Phoenix, I didn't mean anything…' She looked back once with her blameless eyes and then left.

Phoenix slumped back in her chair, completely perplexed by what had just happened,

'You'll get used to her eventually.' Faia spoke, checking out of the corner of her eye that her sister was gone.

'She seems nice enough.' Phoenix commented, 'A bit _too_ nice, but nice all the same.'

Faia picked at the seat, her eyes gazing through the window as the train passed lush fields of green grass and mighty trees, 'She IS nice, but that's why I don't like being around her when I'm not with family, she always thinks the best of everyone no matter what.' She stirred and flicked her eyes towards the compartment door again, 'You could be in a duel with most evil and the most powerful wizard or witch imaginable and she'd still only try and push you to shake hands and make up.'

'Duelling? Like with swords?' Phoenix thought the world of magic was getting weirder by the minute.

It took Faia a minute to realise that Phoenix was serious, and she laughed her soothing laugh, 'No silly! You use your wands! You have to try and beat your opponent with magic, and only the most skilled duellers can survive beyond the first spell or so because of their reaction times. Sometimes you can even try and control and opponent's thoughts with magic, making them open to anything. It's really dangerous but really cool.'

Phoenix imagined herself standing in a crowd of people, firing all sorts of imaginative things from her wand and dancing past the opponent's spells, 'Aye, it would be cool.'

Phoenix was interrupted by more knocks on the compartment door, and the re-emergence of Roxy, who had an equally tall boy in tow, his long black hair like a horse's mane and his face already sprouting hair from his chin. Big beady brown eyes observed the compartment, taking in every detail. Phoenix met his gaze and filled with warmth as he smiled at her broadly, proudly showing two rows of pearly white teeth before he went back to eyeing the compartment. Phoenix couldn't take her eyes off him, his young yet mature face led seamlessly into well-built broad shoulders and chest down to his thick legs. He was intoxicating.

Faia took one look at the door and groaned again, 'Leave us alone! We don't want to be the weird kids with the overprotective prefects.'

Roxy opened the door and ushered the boy in before her, promptly closing it and sitting down opposite Faia and Phoenix, 'Now, Faia, I'm Head Girl, not just a prefect now, and Adam isn't overprotective of you at all!' She gestured at Adam, who had finished surveying the compartment and was now adjusting his silver Prefect badge.

Phoenix was still enthralled by him, ignoring how he fussed over the one-millimetre lopsidedness of his badge. She was nudged sharply in the ribs by Faia and she looked up, discovering that she'd been staring at Adam for quite a while, and now all eyes were on her,

'Earth to Phoenix, are you there?' Faia waved her hand in front of Phoenix's eyes and she batted it away.

'Yeah, sorry, was just… thinking.' Phoenix smiled awkwardly at the 3 unconvinced faces.

'That's alright,' Roxy grinned at her, 'We were just wondering where you got your name from, it's rather unorthodox, even for a witch.'

Phoenix thought back to her normal and boring life at the farm, all the years she'd spent there ignorant of her talents, yet for the life of her she could not find any references to her namesake, 'I'm sorry, but I'm still wondering myself.' She replied, smiling again, trying to hide the embarrassment behind a weak façade.

'Oh… That's okay; I guess it gives you a mission in life, which is always good. You always need something to aim for.' Roxy grinned back, rising from her seat, 'Well, Adam just wanted to know how you got your name – he's studying to become a magic historian at the moment – and I thought I'd drag him along and introduce him. I think that's everything, so we'll be off, need to get back to patrol. It was nice meeting you again Phoenix.' Roxy extended her hand and Phoenix shook it, and then froze as Adam placed his before her,

'Is there something wrong? You don't look to be well, should I go and find someone?' Adam enquired.

'Oh, no; no, I'm fine thanks, just went blank for a second.' Phoenix laughed half-heartedly, taking Adam's hand in a firm grip and quickly letting go, lest she make things more awkward by clinging on.

'See you two at the school then.' Adam smiled at them, his rows of lustrous teeth glittering in the light.

'Yeah, whatever.' Faia mumbled, feeling left out since the conversation had only been about Phoenix.

'Bye.' Phoenix uttered, her throat dry.

As soon as Adam had left the compartment, Faia started giggling, 'You like him don't you?'

Phoenix turned and stood upright, 'He's a nice guy.'

Faia sniggered, 'C'mon, you were staring at him for half of the time, nothing screams 'Oh my God I want you' like a good five-minute stare.'

Phoenix turned back around, her skin flaring with heat as the embarrassment ran through her, 'Well, maybe just a little bit…' Lust flowed through her as she pictured them in her mind, she was dressed in crimson and he was in a dazzling white tuxedo; her body warmed as the imagery filled her head, her emotions boiling her blood and warming her very bones.'

'Phoe… you're smoking.' Faia said, bringing Phoenix out of her imagination.

'What? Are you flirting with me?' Phoenix cautiously asked.

'Seriously Phoenix, look at your arm, you're smoking; you're on fire!' Faia gasped as Phoenix's arm caught alight. Something in Phoenix's mind was forcing its hand, threatening to take control.

_No, not now, not again._ Phoenix's heart pounded as her body engulfed itself slowly in a fireball. People had started to gather outside the compartment door, peering through the panes of glass at the girl who was steadily combusting. Heat started to leak from the flames, as if a switch had been turned on to produce it, although Phoenix felt only minor warmth, her body and her clothes intact, albeit glowing gradually brighter. Faia was curling up in the corner of the compartment, her mouth agape and her eyes filling with tears as she watched on helplessly.

Smoke began to rise as the wooden floor of the carriage started to smoulder; it would not be long until the flames that bound Phoenix were released and the carriage including all the onlookers became nothing but ash. Tears formed in Phoenix's eyes and evaporated the instant they touched her skin. She looked over at Faia, whose face was still a mix of fear; horror; sadness and rage. A cooling sensation bathed Phoenix's body as she watched the girl weep; something was fighting back against the burning. Pity for the vulnerable form of Faia forced another cooling wave through her; guilt provoking a third that weakening the shell of fire surrounding Phoenix. Grief gripped her as she imagined loosing Faia, sending a fourth cool surge through and cracking the fiery shell. Hope blossomed through Phoenix as the flames cracked and split before her eyes, and a final pulse of power flowed through her bones and exploded outwards, shattering and smashing the weakened wall of flame, extinguishing what remained in an instant.

Faia whimpered as the last of the fire disappeared, uncoiling herself and stepping cautiously over to Phoenix, wiping away the stemming flow of salty tears. Phoenix swayed as the last of the flame and heat left her body, and she toppled forwards into Faia's hurriedly outstretched arms. She heard the compartment door open as her eyes blurred, her weakened form fighting to stay conscious. A fight it lost as she blacked out in Faia's arms.


End file.
